This is my second Rent fanfic and I would just like to thank everyone that reviewed my first, you gave me a lot of great suggestions which I tried to use while writing this. I don't know if it's any better, please let me know! These characters belong to the late, great, Jonathon Larson.
I look around the familiar clinic, feelings of dread filling my stomach as I remember why I'm here...again. Mark. I'm here because of Mark. Well, because of me, really. I'm waiting in this cold, unfriendly place, waiting for Mark to get the results of his HIV test. A month has gone by, four weeks that went by like lifetimes, since he got tested...since I ruined his life. For what seems like the millionth time this week, waves of guilt wash over me as flashbacks from "that night" fill my head.
I was sitting on my bed writing lyrics to a new song I'd been working on, anxiously waiting for the phone to ring. I'd been waiting for Adam to call all week: He had an uncle who owned a record company who we had sent a demo tape to three weeks ago. The uncle had gotten back to Adam, saying he loved it and promised to look into maybe setting up a record deal. So when the phone rang, needless to say, I was excited. I jumped up to answer the phone but in my hurry I tripped over a pile of clothes on my floor, falling and shattering a glass picture frame right next to it. The phone rang again and Mark answered it but from the silly grin on his face, I knew it was Maureen, and not Adam, on the other end.
Disappointed, I got up and it was then that I noticed the blood dripping down my arm from where the sharded glass had cut into me. "Shit..." I pressed my other hand to the wounds to stop the bleeding but not before Mark turned his head and rushed towards me.
"What happened? Oh my God, Roger, are you okay?" He reached his hand out to help me and I yanked my arm away, but not before some of my blood got on his hand...the same hand that he had scratched only two days ago while working on his camera...
So now here I am, four weeks later, sitting in the same place where three years ago I had gotten my own AIDS test, waiting to see if Mark would have to go through the same hellish nightmare that I had...
I can't believe this is actually happening. I can't believe I'm sitting in this room waiting for the man who is about to change my life forever.
I turn my head and nod, my voice betraying me. He reaches his hand out and I shake it, wondering and fearing why he is being so polite.
"I'm Dr. Murphy, and...I'm afraid I have some bad news for you..."
I don't say anything, just close my now tear-filled eyes as he tells me that he's not completely sure yet, since it will take at least up to 2 more months to know for sure, but that my blood tests are showing many signs that I am HIV positive and that he will start me on AZT as soon as possible, trying to sound positive as he explains that I will still have a fairly normal, though shortened, life and blah blah blah...
I tune him out, I don't want to hear this anymore. He hands me a small sheet of paper, which I assume is an AZT prescription, and I get the hell out of there. I don't want to be there one second longer. As I walk, blindly, into the waiting room I see Roger rise quickly and rush over to me. I try to swallow the huge lump rising in my throat but am unsuccessful as the tears spill out onto my cheeks, so I just nod as he holds me, crying silently.